LETTER XLII
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.WEDNESDAY NIGHT, AUG. 30.
It was lucky enough that our two servants met at Hannah's,* which gavethem so good an opportunity of exchanging their letters time enough foreach to return to his master early in the day.
* The Windmill, near Slough.
Thou dost well to boast of thy capacity for managing servants, and to setup for correcting our poets in their characters of this class of people,*when, like a madman, thou canst beat their teeth out, and attempt toshoot them through the head, for not bringing to thee what they had nopower to obtain.
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
You well observe* that you would have made a thorough-paced lawyer. Thewhole of the conversation-piece between you and the Colonel affords aconvincing proof that there is a black and a white side to every cause:But what must the conscience of a partial whitener of his own cause, orblackener of another's, tell him, while he is throwing dust in the eyesof his judges, and all the time knows his own guilt?
* See Letter XL. of this volume.
The Colonel, I see, is far from being a faultless man: but while hesought not to carry his point by breach of faith, he has an excuse whichthou hast not. But, with respect to him, and to us all, I can now, withthe detestation of some of my own actions, see, that the taking advantageof another person's good opinion of us to injure (perhaps to ruin) thatother, is the most ungenerous wickedness that can be committed.
Man acting thus by man, we should not be at a loss to give such actions aname: But is it not doubly and trebly aggravated, when such advantage istaken of an unexperienced and innocent young creature, whom we pretend tolove above all the women in the world; and when we seal our pretences bythe most solemn vows and protestations of inviolable honour that we caninvent?
I see that this gentleman is the best match thou ever couldest have had,upon all accounts: his spirit such another impetuous one as thy own; soontaking fire; vindictive; and only differing in this, that the cause heengages in is a just one. But commend me to honest brutal Mowbray, who,before he knew the cause, offers his sword in thy behalf against a manwho had taken the injured side, and whom he had never seen before.
As soon as I had run through your letters, and the copy of that of theincendiary Brand's, (by the latter of which I saw to what cause a greatdeal of this last implacableness of the Harlowe family is owing,) I tookcoach to Smith's, although I had been come from thence but about an hour,and had taken leave of the lady for the night.
I sent up for Mrs. Lovick, and desired her, in the first place, toacquaint the lady (who was busied in her closet,) that I had letters fromBerks: in which I was informed, that the interview between Colonel Mordenand Mr. Lovelace had ended without ill consequences; that the Colonelintended to write to her very soon, and was interesting himself meanwhile, in her favour, with her relations; that I hoped that thisagreeable news would be means of giving her good rest; and I would waitupon her in the morning, by the time she should return from prayers, withall the particulars.
She sent me word that she should be glad to see me in the morning; andwas highly obliged to me for the good news I had sent her up.
I then, in the back shop, read to Mrs. Lovick and to Mrs. Smith the copyof Brand's letter, and asked them if they could guess at the man'sinformant? They were not at a loss; Mrs. Smith having seen the samefellow Brand who had talked with her, as I mentioned in the former,* comeout of a milliner's shop over against them; which milliner, she said, hadalso lately been very inquisitive about the lady.
* See Vol. VII. Letter LXXXI.
I wanted no farther hint; but, bidding them take no notice to the lady ofwhat I had read, I shot over the way, and, asking for the mistress of thehouse, she came to me.
Retiring with her, at her invitation, into her parlour, I desired to knowif she were acquainted with a young country clergyman of the name ofBrand. She hesitatingly, seeing me in some emotion, owned that she hadsome small knowledge of the gentleman. Just then came in her husband,who is, it seems, a petty officer of excise, (and not an ill-behavedman,) who owned a fuller knowledge of him.
I have the copy of a letter, said I, from this Brand, in which he hastaken great liberties with my character, and with that of the mostunblamable lady in the world, which he grounds upon information that you,Madam, have given him. And then I read to them several passages in hisletter, and asked what foundation she had for giving that fellow suchimpressions of either of us?
They knew not what to answer: but at last said, that he had told them howwickedly the young lady had run away from her parents: what worthy andrich people they were: in what favour he stood with them; and that theyhad employed him to inquire after her behaviour, visiters, &c.
They said, 'That indeed they knew very little of the young lady; but that[curse upon their censoriousness!] it was but too natural to think, that,where a lady had given way to a delusion, and taken so wrong a step, shewould not stop there: that the most sacred places and things were but toooften made clokes for bad actions; that Mr. Brand had been informed(perhaps by some enemy of mine) that I was a man of very free principles,and an intimado, as he calls it, of the man who had ruined her. And thattheir cousin Barker, a manteau-maker, who lodged up one pair of stairs,'(and who, at their desire, came down and confirmed what they said,) 'hadoften, from her window, seen me with the lady in her chamber, and bothtalking very earnestly together; and that Mr. Brand, being unable toaccount for her admiring my visits, and knowing I was but a newacquaintance of her's, and an old one of Mr. Lovelace, thought himselfobliged to lay these matters before her friends.'
This was the sum and substance of their tale. O how I cursed thecensoriousness of this plaguy triumvirate! A parson, a milliner, and amantua-maker! The two latter, not more by business led to adorn thepersons, than generally by scandal to destroy the reputations, of thosethey have a mind to exercise their talents upon!
The two women took great pains to persuade me that they themselves werepeople of conscience;--of consequence, I told them, too much addicted, Ifeared, to censure other people who pretended not to their strictness;for that I had ever found censoriousness, with those who affected to bethought more pious than their neighbours.
They answered, that that was not their case; and that they had sinceinquired into the lady's character and manner of life, and were very muchconcerned to think any thing they had said should be made use of againsther: and as they heard from Mrs. Smith that she was not likely to livelong, they should be sorry she should go out of the world a sufferer bytheir means, or with an ill opinion of them, though strangers to her.The husband offered to write, if I pleased, to Mr. Brand, in vindicationof the lady; and the two women said they should be glad to wait upon herin person, to beg her pardon for any thing she had reason to take amissfrom them; because they were now convinced that there was not suchanother young lady in the world.
I told them that the least said of the affair to the lady, in her presentcircumstances, was best. That she was a heavenly creature, and fond oftaking all occasions to find excuses for her relations on theirimplacableness to her: that therefore I should take some notice to her ofthe uncharitable and weak surmises which gave birth to so vile a scandal:but that I would have him, Mr. Walton, (for that is the husband's name,)write to his acquaintance Brand as soon as possible, as he had offered;and so I left them.
As to what thou sayest of thy charming cousin, let me know if thou hastany meaning in it. I have not the vanity to think myself deserving ofsuch a lady as Miss Montague; and should not therefore care to exposemyself to her scorn and to thy derision. But were I assured I mightavoid both of these, I would soon acquaint thee that I should think nopains nor assiduity too much to obtain a share in the good graces of sucha lady.
But I know thee too well to depend upon any thing thou sayest on thissubject. Thou lovest to make thy friends the objects of ridicule toladies; and imaginest, from the vanity, (and, in this respect, I will saylittle
ness,) of thine own heart, that thou shinest the brighter for thefoil.
Thus didst thou once play off the rough Mowbray with Miss Hatton, tillthe poor fellow knew not how to go either backward or forward.